


Rick and Morty, Forever and Ever, Rick and Morty

by mortysmithh



Series: Rick and Morty songfics [5]
Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Fluff, Incest, Kissing, M/M, Makeouts, Sloppy Seconds - Watsky, Songfic, slight angst, uhh, what do i even tag this as
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 16:48:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5298851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mortysmithh/pseuds/mortysmithh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Songfic based off of the song Sloppy Seconds by Watsky, sorry this dragged on for so long it's probably really sloppy oh well<br/>I'll proofread it sometime,,,,,<br/>Enjoy!! Comment/leave Kudos if you liked it!! <33</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rick and Morty, Forever and Ever, Rick and Morty

_Fuck you if you love a car for its paint job_

_Love you if you love a car for the road trips_

The first time Rick brings Morty out to see his spaceship, he’s buzzed and drunk and slurring more often than he’s speaking coherently, and that’s if you count out the burps punctuating nearly every word he speaks. Morty doesn’t seem too impressed, tired and cranky and unwilling to pay attention to Rick’s ramblings about how the ship’s going to bring them on so many adventures, give them so many memories.

Thousands of trips and near-death experiences later, Morty can’t look at the ship without feeling his heart swell up with good thoughts, good feelings, good memories. Rick tries not to tear up whenever he sees Morty standing there in the garage, late at night when they’ve just gotten back from an adventure and he’s simply admiring the battered hull, the windows that’ve been replaced too many times, the way the moonlight glints off of every reflective surface on the ship.

_Show me the miles and your arms and the pink scar_

_Where the doctor had to pull out all the bone chips_

When Morty first sees Rick naked, his eyes don’t rush towards the man’s dick as he’d expected. Instead, his attention had snapped to the scars, the burns, the marks that look painful as scars, and he can't even imagine how badly they must've hurt as actual wounds, and his own chest throbs in empathetic pain at seeing the puffy, raised slashes going across Rick’s chest. As if in a trance, he walks over slowly, running his fingertips gently over the marks and his eyes wide with amazement, a hint of fear, a hint of worry in them as he pulls away just enough to look up at Rick and whisper, “D-Do they still hurt?”

_Cuz you were pressing on the gas just a bit hard_

_Right in the moment where the road curved a bit sharp_

Rick smiles weakly, smiles with something in his expression that Morty can’t quite decipher as he takes Morty’s hands into his own and squeezes them weakly. “Mmh, s-some- sometimes, yeah, but, th-the alcohol, it helps, sometimes, e-even if it’s just a little bit. Don’t- d-don’t be a rebellious little shit, Morty. D-Don’t- don’t do it alone.”

_And when you woke up, somebody was unclipping your seat belt_

_and pulling you from the open window of your flipped car_

And then he tells Morty about the time he built his first spaceship and didn’t hook up the wires right, and by the time he notices the ship was smoking, he’d already begun to lose altitude. He says it’s only by the miracles of a god that doesn’t exist, or perhaps pure luck, that he’d survived, crawling out of the burning, wrecked lump of metal on the sidewalk with two broken legs and a fractured arm, and that’s why it bends a little funny. Because at fourteen years old, he hadn’t known how to fix it, how to set it, and his parents would have killed him if he ever cost them money for a hospital visit.

_Cold pizza_

_Tie-dye shirts_

Morty comes home with a tie-dyed shirt on one day, grinning like a fool and saying that some hippie girl he has a crush on gave it to him, ‘making’ him promise her a date. Rick tries to not act as disgruntled as he is by this, keeping his thoughts to himself and replying with short bursts of speech. Morty doesn’t seem to really notice, excitedly bouncing on the seat as they watch the _Ball Fondlers_ tv show that had recently come out. Too soon, it’s time for him to leave, coming back downstairs just in time and looking absolutely adorable in dress pants and a white shirt, tie-dye rainbow tie in place and a little bit crooked. Rick makes an off-hand comment, gets up to fix Morty’s tie, tries to ignore the sparkle in Morty’s eyes that are only visible when he’s so close to the kid.

_Broken hearts_

_Give'm here, give'm here_

Then he’s out the door and Rick has to smack himself across the face several times because he’s tearing up for no reason and he doesn’t know how or when or why he’d become so possessive of Morty.

_Hand me downs_

_Give me give me leftovers_

The teenager comes back broken-hearted, stood up for Lyric’s cruel idea of a prank, a joke played on him because he was too busy seeing hearts to see the wickedness in her gaze as she’d handed him the oil rag her father had given to her to throw out.

_Give me give me sloppy seconds_

_Give em here, give em here_

Tears streaming down his cheeks, he doesn’t look up when Rick answers the door, only slumps in relief because at least he doesn’t have to explain what happened, Rick will understand more than anything. He still doesn’t expect anything to happen, which is why he nearly chokes on a gob of spit and mucous as Rick wraps wiry, strong arms around him and hugs him close to the old man’s chest almost too tightly, almost enough to suffocate him, and it’s soothing, in the strangest of ways.

_I don't care where you've been_

_How many miles, I still love you_

And now Rick’s murmuring, offering to kill the girl but he only does it twice before trailing off into loving nothings, into mutters and mumbles of how he loves Morty, of how that girl didn’t deserve to even look at him, much less be so pretentious as to not _jump_ at the chance, the thought of having a date with Morty Smith, of how much Morty’s _his_ and his alone, how he’ll protect Morty until the end of time itself, and even afterwards.

_I don't care where you've been_

_How many miles, I still love you_

And Morty’s crying even harder, choking out sobs of ‘I love you’s and weak giggles of pokes at Rick getting weak, at Rick showing emotion, and both of them are too clingy, too much, too touchy, it’s going to be awkward afterwards because it almost always is whenever there’s touching involved, and Morty’s never understood until he gasps out what feels like his millionth ‘I-I love you, Rick’ that he realizes it’s true, he loves Rick. He loves this asshole scientist that controls his moods with just a few gruff words, belched out and accompanied by the disgusting and wonderfully familiar scent of stomach acid and alcohol.

_Show me someone who says they got no baggage_

_I'll show you somebody whose got no story_

He loves Rick, Rick with all of his scars and flaws, his violent tendencies, the way he kisses with lips misleadingly chapped but with a gentle intent behind the way he moves them, his alcoholism, his drug addiction, how his muscles aren’t visibly there but he can feel them flexing, hidden power making itself known each time Rick shifts, pulls him in closer still.

_Nothing gory means no glory, but baby please don't bore me_

_We won't know until we get there_

His terrorist grandfather, the old man that’s dropped all morals because he’s addicted to thousands of alien drugs and thousands more of alcoholic beverages made by the same and more, different aliens, so why bother with social taboo? His grandfather that holds him so tenderly he thinks, has a horrible fear that for a split second, that this isn’t his Rick, his Rick died and someone else slipped into his place, and then Rick kisses him again and he thinks absentmindedly that no other Rick has ever smelled, ever tasted like this specific mix of spit, alcohol, a tinge of vomit, and _Rick_. His Rick.

_The who, or the what, or the when where_

_My favorite sweater was a present that I got a couple presidents ago_

They burn the shirt together, chanting stupid things and dancing stupid dances around it before Rick hands Morty a beer, says he deserves it after the shit he’s gone through that night. Morty doesn’t hesitate, wanting to seem tough, experienced, wanting to impress Rick, and so he inadvertently attempts to shotgun it, and it’s only through the mercy of the beer pausing for an air bubble to rise up in the can that Morty avoids drowning from the alcohol flowing down the wrong pipe. He nearly hacks up a lung, or so it feels, as Rick laughs himself into tears even as he thumps Morty on the back hard enough that he coughs up most of the amber liquid that’d been in his lungs.

_And I promised that I would rock it till it's thread bare_

_Bet on it_

And Rick gulps down what he has in his mouth, some dripping out of his nose from how hard he’d burst out laughing at Morty’s watery eyes. He nearly gives Morty a heart attack when he leans in, eyeballing the kid before letting his eyes flutter shut and he kisses the shorter, and this time it isn’t in a hysterical mess of tears, it isn’t interrupted by anything, only the sudden flow of bitter beer into Morty’s mouth. He gulps it down, blushing hard and eyes still wide and cheeks still bright, bright red when Rick pulls back. He hands Morty a new can of beer, popping the tab and bopping him on the nose with his own, now-empty and crushed can as he reminds Morty ‘d-don’t- don’t try to fuckin’, f-fuckin’ deepthroat the thing again, MoURGHty, y’know what I mean, dawg?’

_Every single person got a couple skeletons_

_So pretty soon, in this room_

Soon enough, Morty’s drunk, six beers in him and nearly triple the amount in Rick as they giggle and stumble over to the couch. Morty isn’t freaking out yet, he’s too high, too happy and too comfortable in Rick’s lap to be upset about the fact that they’ve kissed, twice, or maybe even three times now. It doesn’t help that Rick keeps giving him little pecks on his cheeks and the corners of his mouth, and he finally grips Rick’s face in his hands, leaning down to give him a kiss that he’s afraid is too amateur but when he pulls away, Rick has the stupidest, silliest grin on his face, and it’s the cutest thing Morty’s ever seen Rick do.

_It'll just be me and you when we clear out all the elephants_

_Me and you and the elements_

When they wake up, the atmosphere is different. They’re both hungover, but they look at each other with a clarity in their eyes, and it’s almost tense for a moment before Morty leans forwards to kiss Rick on the tip of his nose, then on his lips, hardly a brush of skin against skin before he pulls back, cheeks tinged with pink and a dopey little grin on his face. “Y-You- you don’t, uh, y-you don’t regret, r-regret any of, uh...l-last night, then?”

_We all have our pitfalls_

_Beer's flat, the cabs have been called_

Rick only looks over, brow furrowed in irritation at the bright sunlight filtering through the cracks in the garage door before he shakily gets to his feet, stumbling over to an open can of beer that’s sitting on his work desk. He takes a long pull from it, makes a face, then belches for a full ten seconds, chuckling gruffly and wiping stomach acid off of his mouth. “F-Fuckin’- flatass beer,” he mumbles to himself, nearly incoherent for how badly he’s still slurring before he goes back over to Morty, tripping twice but somehow managing not to spill the beer. He sets it down on the floor a little ways away from where they were laying on the floor before he grips Morty by the front of his shirt and kisses him hard, eyes fluttering shut and a soft hum of approval leaving him when he feels his grandson kissing back eagerly. He pulls back with a smack, eyes oddly-lidded as he grins lazily. “That- th-that answEURGH- answer yer- y-your question?”

_And everybody and their momma can hear the drama_

_that's happening behind these thin walls_

And they hear yelling; Beth and Jerry are going at it again, worried Morty ran away, worried Rick took him too, and they know they should go tell them Morty’s fine, and then Rick suggests that they _do_ run away, because it isn’t as though Rick can’t teach him everything they need to know.

_Cold pizza_

_Tie-dye shirts (tie-dye shirts)_

So they pack their shit up, make an agreement that whatever happens, happens, and Morty finds out so many things about Rick that he’d never even think about. Like how Rick’s more giggly than slurring whenever it’s just the two of them getting smashed, how he knows how to make alcohol that’s so strong it’ll kill you if you don’t dilute it, how his eyes are gleaming with happy tears and the haze that comes with being high off of six different types of drugs that he’d offered to Morty immediately after taking them.

_Broken hearts_

_Give'm here, give'm here_

Sometimes Morty gets upset, worries that they made the wrong choice, that they were just being irresponsible and spontaneous, and he thinks the should go back. Rick always indulges him, but right as he’s about to ring the doorbell, he just goes running back, twisting the front of Rick’s sweater so tightly that the wrinkles never really go away as he chokes out sobs into it. Rick shooshes him, murmurs sweet nothings, murmurs that it’s alright, they can really come back if he needs to, drops his facade of not giving a shit for just a few minutes, because he can trust Morty.

_Hand me downs (hand me downs)_

_Leftovers (leftovers)_

Rick Sanchez is not perfect. He knows this, his mind conveniently reminds him every moment he’s in existence, even in his dreams, through horrible nightmares of what he’s done, what he might do, what might happen to his Morty, what he might do to his Morty. He’s brash, makes bad decisions for his own personal gain, and the ‘show’ of not giving two fucks about anything is more often than not just his usual self; he really couldn’t care less what happened to anyone. Except, except for Morty.

_Sloppy seconds_

_Give'm here, give'm here_

And he lets Morty know, one day while they’re staring up at the stars on the Mars-like planet they’ve decided to take over. He lets Morty know he trusts him, hopes he understands the deeper meaning behind it, because there’s a reason he used to sleep with a knife underneath his pillow, and he still keeps a gun hidden on his person at almost all times, but he doesn’t need it anymore; it’s just him and Morty, and he thinks Morty does, because he gasps and chokes out a sob of ‘I-I trust you too, Rick. I love you’, and it makes warmth bloom in his chest for what feels like the millionth time since they’ve left. He’ll still never get used to how pure, how honest his love for Morty is.

_I don't care where you've been_

_How many miles, I still love you_

Their adventures have grown even more, now that Morty doesn’t have school or parents to deal with, and Rick really doesn’t have any restrictions on what Morty does, because as long as he doesn’t die or get maimed beyond the point of even Rick’s help, Rick’s fine with him doing whatever the hell he wants.

_I don't care where you've been_

_How many miles, I still love you_

Morty’s favourite habit quickly changes from Flappy Bird to waking Rick up, late at night when the stars are sparkling and there’s no smog or clouds to obscure the brilliant beauty of them.

_I don't care (cold pizza)_

_Where you've been (tie-dye shirts)_

He loves to crawl up on top of Rick where he’s laying in his air mattress, loves to kiss him slow and deep and smooth, full of love, and he loves to show Rick how much he loves him, not stopping until he feels a twitch underneath him and suddenly Rick’s got calloused fingers tangled into Morty’s long, messy curls, pulling him back so that he can belch out a laugh. “AgEURGH- again?” “A-Again!”

_How many (broken hearts) miles, I still love you_

_I don't care (hand me downs)_

And Rick likes to tease Morty about how much he enjoys just staring at a bunch of stupid stars, but he loves hearing Morty’s happy little squeals, how he’s able to see the stars so much more clearly, and sometimes, Morty will come over and crawl into his lap, and kiss him with a mouth full of alcohol, a mouth full of smoke, a mouth full of sins and love and when he pulls back, smoke curling out of his nostrils or gin dribbling down his chin, he giggles and sighs out happy ‘I love you’s, continuing to say those wonderful three words until the words start to slow and his stutters grow and grow until he’s slurring out nonsense, and then he’s passed out, snoring and drooling ever so slightly onto Rick’s chest.

_Where you've been (left overs)_

_How many (sloppy seconds) miles, I still love you_

Rick doesn’t really find himself minding, and he chuckles at first, thinks he’s become a softie, that Morty’s made him weak. And he isn’t horrified by the thought, only searches around more for an explanation before he realizes he doesn’t really care, Morty’s made him feel love again, and that’s all that really matters in the end.

_My pattern with women isn't a flattering image_

_But I don't want to run away because I said so_

Rick tells him stories, sometimes, when they’re stargazing. Tells him about all of the sexual escapades and misadventures he’s been on, tells him about the many types of gender there are in such a big universe, tells him about the different types of aliens he’s fucked, tells him things that he’s never really found all that interesting until he sees Morty’s eyes lighting up with every word and the way he giggles whenever Rick tells him how he got rejected by three furious Amazonians.

_I don't want to be the guy to hide all of my flaws_

_And I'll be giving you the side of me that I don't let show_

Morty starts noticing Rick getting more open, not hiding his tears, not hiding his anger, not hiding his happiness. He notices Rick not getting quite as upset at himself whenever he lets slip an emotion he’d meant to hide, and he notices Rick showing his affection through so many little things that sometimes it’s a little overwhelming in the most wonderful ways.

_Everything in fashion_

_That has ever happened_

Like how he teases Morty about his stupid yellow shirt, tells him they could walk around naked for all who cares, it’s only alien plants and life on this planet that’re watching. Like how he kisses Morty, curling a rough finger underneath a soft, slightly stubbly chin to tilt the shorter’s head up, because it’s been years but the height difference is still almost hilariously ridiculous.

_Always coming crashing down_

_Better let go_

And how he murmurs ‘I love you’, late at night when the stars are still almost too bright, because who can adjust to such a clarity ever, really, when he thinks Morty’s asleep, or maybe he’s just unafraid to tell Morty that now. Maybe he’s gotten over his fear of showing emotion, of showing affection. Yeah, it might be that, because the way Morty’s breath hitches and he rolls over to give Rick a dopey, exhausted little smile warms Rick’s heart up and fills it with love that feels like thick, hot sugar flowing through his veins, and he can never get enough, can’t live without that feeling, without seeing his Morty so happy.

_But in a couple years it will be retro_

_You rock Marc Ecko_

They decide to go swimming one day, skinny dipping, and there’s nobody else on this planet, but it still brings him a thrill, and maybe that’s why he gives Rick a little stripshow as he slowly peels off his sweat-damp clothing.

_My shirts have the gecko_

_Cuz in the past man, I was hopeless_

And maybe that’s why Rick’s breath is the one to hitch this time as he watches Morty with a tilted brow, silently admiring the young man’s six-pack and the way hard and toned muscles flex and twitch with every little movement. He lets out a loud wolf whistle, and that breaks them both out of the daze they’d been drawn into.

_But now's when my little cousins look the dopest_

_(whoop whoop)_

Rick snorts, a sound paired with his brow furrowing up as he lets out a bark of a laugh and goes over to Morty, already naked, and picks him up, tossing him into the pool and howling with laughter as Morty pops back up with a gasp. He’s shivering hard, cheeks red and his nose wrinkling up as he sneezes up water, and he sounds very odd, to be sure, practically honking out giggles and rubbing at his eyes so that he can attempt to give Rick a proper stinkeye, but his vision isn’t clear for long as Rick cannonballs into the pool, yelling as he does.

_Fuck the fashion po-po_

_Have a stale doughnut, I don't need no tips_

They cuddle afterwards, exhausted muscles twanging in protest as Rick pulls Morty into his lap and nuzzles into the crook of his neck, practically sighs out a happy purr of ‘My Morty…’, eyes fluttering shut and their breathing synchronized.

_Fuck a five second rule_

_That's a plan I never understood_

Fires become a nightly thing; at first, Rick had just set an old sleeping bag on fire. They didn’t need the things they ran away with, said it’s for a new life, and they watch flames and little piece of charred fabric ash fly up in the breeze. Morty grins as he walks over and wraps his arms around Rick’s waist, murmuring, “I-Isn’t alcohol a fire hazard, Rick? M-May- maybe we- maybe I-I should clean that off of you.”

_It's September in my kitchen in a Christmas sweater_

_Sipping cold coffee on the phone with damaged goods_

Rick gets a desperate call on the satellite phone, Beth begging for them to be back, Christmas is only in two days, please come back, just for the holidays, please, da-

He hangs up without so much as another thought, glancing over at Morty, and he looks a little bit irritated; the satellite phone isn’t exactly the most noise-reducing, and it’s easy to eavesdrop, even without trying. “...w-we don’t really need that phone, do we?”

_And there is not a single place that I would rather be_

_I'm fucked up just like you are, and you're fucked up just like me_

Melted plastic twists and furls and unfurls in the bonfire that night, metal going white-hot and of course Rick cracks a joke about branding Morty. He thinks his face might explode if he were to blush any harder, and he huffs, mumbling something about ‘y-you couldn’t hurt me even if you tried’. Rick takes it as a challenge, biting him hard that night as they fuck, digging his fingernails into tanned, somehow still-soft skin and leaving bruises that’ll be a nasty black and purple when the morning comes. Morty doesn’t think he ever came harder in his life than he did that night.

_Cold pizza (cold pizza)_

_Tie-dye shirts (tie-dye shirts)_

When they wake up, Morty winces, hisses and holds a hand up to his irritated and warm neck, feeling over the messy scabs and cracking a weak grin. “...t-told you that you couldn’t hurt me,” he croaks out, voice low and gravelly with amusement before he abruptly lets out a loud belch, sending the both of them into hushed giggles.

_Broken hearts_

_Give'm here, Give'm here_

One night, Rick’s finally able to articulate his feelings, tells Morty things that’re stuttery and belched out and a slander to the English language, but Morty understands because this is _Rick_ language, this is Rick speaking and this is Rick telling him that he would trust Morty with his life without so much as a second thought, that he looks up to Morty, that he loves Morty, that he would do anything for Morty if it would just make him happy, that Morty is finally to Rick what Rick’s been to Morty for so long.

_Hand me downs (oh hand me downs)_

_Give me give me leftovers (leftovers)_

He starts crying halfway through the slurred-out speech, and when Rick finally finishes and reopens his eyes to see Morty laying across from him and sniffling and crying, his eyes go wide and he starts getting up, brow furrowed as he worriedly asks if he’s gone too far, if he should’ve shut up oh god Morty why didn’t you just tell me to shut the fuck u-

_Give me give me sloppy seconds_

_Give'm here give'm here_

And he kisses Rick, pulling him down with arms that are thin but bulge with muscle when he flexes or when he exerts himself. He pulls back a few moments later, both of their mouths now slick with spit and tears and grinning a watery grin as he shakes his head. “N-No, I- I-I love you too, Rick. Y-You, you mean the world to me, a-a-and I really, I really mean that,” he chokes out, hiccuping, and this time Rick’s the one to kiss him, and Rick’s the one to wrap his arms around Morty, to sit up and to pull the shorter into his lap as he’s done so many times before.

_I don't care where you've been_

_How many miles, I still love you_

They fall asleep in an embrace so tight they can feel each other’s chests when they breathe, that Rick can feel soft lashes fluttering against his cheek as Morty yawns and settles down, scoots in even closer and lets his lips rest, just barely touching, against Rick’s.

_I don't care where you've been_

_How many miles, I still love you_

When they wake up in a mess of limbs and sweat and tangled into the blankets, they laugh, and their voices are broken and shot and they’re both too hungover to function properly, but you don’t have to be able to walk to kiss, and Morty shows off his knowledge of this by grabbing Rick the best he can and planting a wet, sloppy kiss onto his lips. Rick crinkles up his nose, groans overexaggerately in disgust at Morty’s morning breath, but there’s a smile playing at the corners of his lips and he can’t stop himself from kissing Morty back, nipping gently at his bottom lip as revenge.

_I don't care (cold pizza)_

_Where you've been (tie-dye shirts)_

Morty finally manages to escape from the tangle of blankets and Rick, grinning and straddling a still relatively entangled Rick and looking down at him with the most innocent expression he can muster up while still grinning like a fool. “I-I’ve got you trapped now, huh, Rick?” He leans down to give his grandfather a soft kiss, giggling when he feels rough hands grab his ass.

_How many (broken hearts) miles, I still love you_

_I don't care (hand me downs)_

Rick pulls back, tilting one side of his brow and winking. “N-Not anymore, now I’ve got you, r-riEURGH- right by your ass,” he says with a snicker and a squeeze of the round cheeks he’s got in his grip.

_Where you've been (left overs)_

_How many (sloppy seconds) miles, I still love you_

Rick and Morty, forever and ever.

 

**Author's Note:**

> My Tumblr's kinkykankri, go send me fic requests and prompts!!


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